


Raising Amy

by eganbrookheimers



Category: Veep (TV)
Genre: F/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-03-29 12:27:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19019923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eganbrookheimers/pseuds/eganbrookheimers
Summary: Sophie always has to leave a mess for Amy to clean up, even in death.A/U: inspired by the films Raising Helen and Life as We Know It. Canon up to Season 4, diverges when Selina wins the election.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Due to my deep disappointment in season 7 of Veep, I have taken out my aggression by writing. Be gentle- this is the first writing I’ve done in a long time!! Hope you all enjoy, I’m hoping to spend my summer before grad school finishing this!

Amy struggled with relationships. With her family, with her non-existent friends, with whatever scraps one would call her love life. But work- work was where Amy got to shine. It didn’t matter that she was loud and abrasive and crude, in fact it made her even better at it. Since Selina’s election, she’d been working around the clock, sleeping and eating even more irregularly than before. But the chaos in the White House had settled from a category 5 shit storm to a dull roar, and she’d never been better. 

Which is why she simply did not have time to go to Sophie’s birthday dinner. Sure, her mom would passive aggressively remind her of that fact every time they spoke for the next 6 months, her sister just aggressively, but that she couldn’t bring her mind to focus on anything else. Selina was just about to make history by having a state dinner to discuss a three-state solution. The possibility of ending a millenium long conflict was on the table, and press had been circling for days in anticipation. Every single detail had to be perfect, since according to Kent even certain colors of china promoted healthy conflict resolution. So forgive her for skipping out on Costco Cake and an awful performance of Happy Birthday by her nieces and nephews. 

“You reading this?” Dan asked excitedly. “They’re saying this could be one of the most consequential state dinners since Nixon.” 

She turned to face him. “I know you’re not used to consequences, you third string lacrosse player, but you know consequential isn’t always a positive term-right? Like when that intern Abbie says sex with you was consequential, it could mean you gave her the best 10 seconds of her life. Or, it could mean she now has crabs. Get the word changed.”

“Significant work better?”

“Since it couldn’t be used to describe sex with you, sure.” Amy heard Ben’s voice bellowing down the halls, and turned on her heel to follow it. “Threaten them if necessary!” She called behind her. 

He sighed. “On it, boss.”

\--

By 7 that night, the White House had become the very chaos she dreaded. And loved. Gary running around screaming about centerpieces, Kent chasing him telling him that statistically, hydrangeas made people more hostile, Catherine trying her best not to embarrass her mother and failing. 

Despite the chaos surrounding her, for once, Amy felt every bit calm in the eye of the storm. Dressed in a blue Ralph Lauren gown, she felt every bit both beautiful and smart. Which she would have to be, given that her job tonight was to keep the Israeli Prime Minister’s chief of staff busy while Selina manipulated the PM to into agreeing to her conditions. She had to be on, no time for distractions.

“Well, well well, if we don’t have the Meyer administration’s honeypot herself, Miss Amy Brookheimer.” Speaking of distractions. God, he looked good. It physically pained her to admit it, but the thorn in her side could also pull off a Tom Ford suit. She shook those feelings, whatever they may be, aside. 

“You know Dan, just because I was dumb enough to have sex with you before my brain had finished developing, does not mean you get to have squatters rights over my vagina.”

“I wouldn’t call it squatters rights, I mean think more of yourself Amy. That makes it sound like an abandoned crack house where people overdose. I would say that I’ve rented a room in your 4 star Airbnb.”

Amy’s face contorted in the way it often could, in disgust and amusement. “Only you could make home descriptions disgusting.”

“Then you clearly do not have HGTV.”

“And only four stars?”

“Memory’s fuzzy, it’s been a while.” He walked away and took his seat. 

\--

The evening was off to a smashing start. She’d been able to successfully whisk away the Israeli chief of staff- men really could be so simple- and by the time they’d returned, Selina and Ben had nearly persuaded both sides into doing her bidding. She could almost feel herself enjoying this moment, when that was interrupted by several hard, persistent taps on the shoulder. Whipping around, ready to verbally execute whoever dared bother her on this night, she was shocked to see Dan standing behind her.

Dan swallowed hard. “Have you checked your phone?”

There was no way this was anything other than Ben looking for her asking who hid his bottle of bourbon. Scary, but not terrifying. “Yeah, I haven’t gotten anything, other than my mom calling incessantly. Probably wanting me to phone in to wish Sophie a Happy Birthday, and you know, just because she gets the day off from scanning tampons doesn’t mean the rest of the world stops working.”

His face blanches at this. His face, normally obnoxiously handsome and smirking at her, was stone cold and his eyes were wide. “Your Mom called me.”

Amy felt herself tensing. “Wait, why did she call you, and why does she have your number?”

Dan recognized the panicked look in her eye. “I think we should talk in your office.”

The walk to Amy’s office was less than 50 yards from the dinner, but in those moments it felt like miles. She felt as if she could just drift away and leave her body there, stuck in that same hallway. She stared blankly ahead, and was briefly thankful for Dan’s consistent presence in her personal space, as he grazed her back and led her into her office. 

“Amy, it’s your sister.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, uh-” She had seen Dan furious, panicked, turned-on, and almost every emotion in between, but she had no clue what to call the look he was giving her right now. He looked like he was scared he would break her. “Sophie left your parents with her boyfriend, they were heading out to get a drink when....a car leaving the bar pulled out and hit them head on. They took them to the hospital and did everything they could, but Ames-Sophie’s gone.”

Amy took a shallow, shaky breath. “Oh,” she repeated, sinking deeply into her chair. 

Sophie and Amy had never been particularly close. Sophie had always resented Amy, how bright and talented she was. How school came naturally to her, how she graduated college, then law school, then her success in Washington. How she’d never sullied the family name. Amy always hated Sophie because she was carefree, and took no responsibility for her actions, always having their parents or Amy cleaning up her messes. Her parents practically raised those kids. Try as she may though, she couldn’t shake the feeling like she’d lost something. Even thinking of Sophie’s shortcomings in this moment wracked her with guilt. 

“I-I-I don’t know where to go, is there a place I need to be? Is she-are they still there? At the hospital?” She stammered. 

Amy looked up at Dan, her big eyes looking as confused as they’ve ever been. The man who prided himself on having all the answers was in that moment, completely lost for words. 

“Your Mom is still there, they’re waiting for you.”

“Selina, I-I-I have to find Selina, she has to know I’ll be gone.” Coming back to the team after her time away had been rocky at times, but her relationship with Selina was important to her, and abandoning at such a crucial moment could be detrimental. 

“Selina is busy fattening up those fucking diplomats to get eaten by her and Ben. There’s nothing you can do right now except leave. Not even I am a big enough piece of shit to try and use this to my advantage. Even though I do know exactly how I would do it.”

His attempt to ease the seriousness of the situation worked, and for a brief moment she was grateful for the ice cold blood running through his veins. She let herself smile at him. 

“I called a car for you. Do you need...someone to ride with you?” Shockingly kind of him to ask, but she knew him well enough to know he was praying it wasn’t him she needed. 

“That’s ok Dan. Thank you.” He knew her well enough to know she meant it. 

He waited with her by the gate until the car pulled up, and made sure she got inside. “I really am sorry, Ames.” He shut the door and went back in.

As the car pulled away, she finally let herself cry. 

—

Sleep was a foreign concept at this point. Negotiating the settlement of the West Bank was a walk in the park compared trying to get more than three hours of sleep in her parents house. Between planning Sophie’s funeral during the day and working at night, she was minutes away from falling asleep standing up. 

Dan would laugh if he could see her like this. Living on Red Bull, working on no sleep, one wrong move away from a panic attack- add several notches to her bedpost and a few iPads in her hands and she’d be him. 

If he hated hospitals, he would despise a funeral. She can’t even picture him at one, in a room full of crying people in cheap suits. As for herself, she’s only been to one- her grandmother’s. So many of the memories surrounding it are blurry- she just distinctly remembers the emerald brooch she wore in her casket. She should be so lucky as to forget this one. Forgetting it may be difficult, but repressing it was second nature. 

People think siblings are close, which means she’s had about fifteen gentle pats on the arm and sad, understanding looks in the hour since the wake had started. After number 15, she’d moved to standing in the corner and praying no one noticed her. 

In her periphery, she observed her Aunt Marilyn moving towards her, which is why she thanked her lucky stars when she heard her phone start ringing. 

“I’m sorry, it’s the President offering her condolences,” Amy whispered to Aunt Marilyn. 

“Ma’am, thank you for calling, you have no idea what you helped me escape fr-”

“Amy!” She heard quietly screech in the voice she’d know anywhere. “I am so sorry about your sister, but you have to come back here, shit is getting real.”

“Gary, what are you talking about? I just talked to Ben last fucking night and he said everything was good to go?”

“Well, now the Israelis are thinking of backing out because they got some idea that the deal won’t be kept, and Selina is fucking losing it! She just took her tea and smashed the cup everywhere which means she ruined her dress which was Prada and the teacup was from the Prime Minister of France, and-”

“They’re thinking of pulling out? Oh fuck me BLIND,” Amy said, taking in the news. Said perhaps too loudly, seeing as when she opened her tightly shut eyes she noticed 30 staring back at her. As if this day wasn’t insufferable enough already. “Sorry, matter of national security.”

When she turned her attention back to her phone call, she caught the end of Selina screaming at Gary. “Ame, I am so sorry he bothered you with that. We need you back, but I was planning on giving you a few days to...process before jumping in with both feet this shit puddle.”

“It’s fine ma’am, I need a distraction anyway. Send someone with the new info and I’ll work on it while my cousins look through photo albums and cry. They barely even knew Sophie, but you all take plan B together one time and you’re the fucking Spice Girls.”

—

Dan arrived at the Brookheimer family home exactly 30 minutes later. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” 

 

“Jesus, what the fuck do you want from me? Selina sent me here.” 

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “It’s just not a good time for more guests right now. My mother is emotional enough, I know how she loves you and how you love an emotionally vulnerable woman. If you fucked her today that would just be another item on the list of shit I truly cannot deal with. Sneak around to the garage and I’ll let you up the back staircase into my room, you can set up there.” 

As she led him through her parents house, up to her childhood bedroom, she knew that- wherever she may be- Sophie was enjoying this. Not much of a daredevil herself, Amy had never snuck a boy up to her room. Her sister had however, and Amy loved taking the opportunity to tell her parents as such. It wasn’t her fault, studying for the SATs was hard enough, it’s harder when trying to block out the noise of heavy petting. 

Amy knew that if Sophie were here, she’d tell their parents as soon as she fucking could. The waves of guilt responded- if Sophie were here, she wouldn’t be doing this at all. 

They approach her bedroom door, covered in photos of the boy bands of yore. Dan looked it up and down. “I gotta say, I’m kind of surprised you were ever into this stuff. I’d just assumed you were born frantically holding your cell phone.”

“I can’t speak to your experience as King of the Underworld, but here on earth, everyone has a childhood, Dan.” 

“Even you, huh?” He smirked at her. Fuck that fucking smirk. “Ever bring any lucky guys up here?” He raised his eyebrows at her. 

There was no way he could’ve known he would hit a nerve, but Dan just had excellent timing. Her eyes were filling with tears more quickly than she could panic about crying. “Fuck you, Dan. You don’t know anything about me or my life or this fucking house.”

Amy could tell she had really fucking spooked him now. He was staring at her like she was from another fucking planet. “I-I-I’m sorry,” he spat out. An apology? She must have him shitting his custom tailored slacks. 

“It’s fine,” she said, wiping her eyes. “Just a long day.” The door opened to reveal the most terrifying thing either of them could imagine- Sophie’s three children sitting on the floor, looking absolutely terrified. 

For no fewer than ten seconds, Dan and Amy stood in complete silence, wondering what to say in to three children who’d lost their mother. 

Since it was her family, it was only fair that she break the silence. “Uh, Dan, these are my nieces and nephew-Cassie, Jordan and Giselle. Kids, this is Dan, my...friend from work.” 

“Should I shake their hands?” Dan whispered in her ear. 

“They’re not fucking hedge fund managers, just smile and wave.” Amy replied, and Dan followed her instructions. 

“Grandma has some cake downstairs for you guys, if you want some. Dan and I have some things to do for the President.”

Cassie, the wise old age of 14, sighed. “Sure, I’ll take them downstairs. Just don’t have sex in here please, I have to sleep in here tonight.” She took the younger two by the hand and led them out the door,  
Another awkward silence filled the air. This time, Dan broke it. “So, you wanna start going over the intel we got last night?”

“Sure,” she replied, thankful for the distraction. He opened his laptop and began reading.

\--

Amy had spent more time with her family over the last three days then she had the last ten years. The door was ringing incessantly, every neighbor bringing a casserole, or a book on grief- she laughed at those, anyone who knew Sophie knew how she had always hated to read- and the flowers. Flowers from Selina, that she knew Gary had picked out because they were extravagant- and likely an apology. 

She kept telling herself that she would wait until the lawyers came on Friday, and after everything was officially settled she would head back to her apartment and try to regain what little sense of normalcy she could. 

It felt strange staying there. Since she’d moved out to go to Penn, she could count on her hands the number of times she’d stayed over at her parents. Back then, it felt like she was being suffocated, like she was being squeezed into the box of things they’d wanted her to be all those years ago, like the expectations and disappointments would crush her any minute. This felt different. Seeing pictures of she and Sophie felt like looking into the house of a person she didn’t know. She wondered if the sisters in the photos lining the walls had been close. If instead of telling her entire homeroom that Amy had started her period at lunch, she’d helped her, given her a pad and sent her on her way . If the sisters in those Christmas sweaters had supported each other, unlike how Amy had scolded her sister after she found out she was pregnant. 

Amy didn’t like to sit in those feelings. It felt uncomfortable to think ill of her sister, given that she was couldn’t argue with her about it. It felt more uncomfortable to force herself to think kindly of her sister just because she was no longer alive. 

Their family attorney, an old friend of her mother’s who had helped Sophie with her child support cases, sat down and pulled out a notepad. He rattled off a list of belongings Sophie had left to her children- yearbooks, family jewelry- and somewhere in that list, Amy allowed herself to drift off. She’d barely slept in the last week, between preparing for the state dinner and planning for the funeral. During the day, she’d help her mother answer the door, look after the children, and call family members. At night, she read briefings, sent emails and caught up with Ben on the day’s news. 

She had nearly nodded off when the attorney read, “And for my three children- Cassie, Jordan and Giselle- I grant sole custody to my dear sister, Amy Brookheimer.” That’s when her head smacked the table. 

\--


	2. Chapter Two

A cup of coffee was shakily brought to Amy’s lips. After five minutes, her mother had gently shaken her awake and reminded her of what had happened. Seeing the look on her mother’s face made her feel two feet tall. That look of relief, of joy, just seeing Amy wake up- it made her stomach hurt. Her mom was relieved because one child was dead and the other just passed out and possibly concussed herself, but Amy had woken up. It was so selfish of Amy to over extend herself like that, to think she could handle work shit and family shit all in a twenty hour work day. 

Unlike the example set by her older sister, Amy had always carried her families burdens on her own shoulders. It wasn’t that they’d ever asked her too, or that they’d let her see too much. Amy was just too smart for her own good. She’d stay up late and hear arguments through closed bedroom doors, or hear her Dad late at night sitting over the calculator and crunching numbers. It wasn’t fair, she knew even as a child, for them to take that on all alone. So she did her part- she worked hard to get a full ride to college, worked since she was 14, and done whatever she could to make her parent’s loads lighter. Sophie had not carried those anchors, she instead shrugged them off at her will. And in her absence, Amy carried hers too. 

She rarely knew her limits, in fact in most cases she dared her obstacles to doubt her, like when they said no woman under 40 would be taken seriously as a Chief of Staff- she’d seen it as a challenge. But this-this was asking too much. And call it Mother’s intuition, or psychic ability, or the clearly stunned look on Amy’s face, but her Mother knew it too. She reached out to pat her daughter gently on the arm. “You know, if you feel like this is too much for you to take on right now, your Father and I would love to have them here.” 

For the first time in weeks, she felt almost light. She was right, it was too much for her. It’s not like the kids didn’t spend all their time there anyway, and this way she could get back to her work of getting Selina the Nobel Peace Prize. Amy opened her mouth to agree when she was interrupted by the loud slams that certainly accompanied teen angst. 

Cassie was looking at her with a look of such contempt, Amy almost had to constrain a laugh. Her niece was a mystery to her, but that-that look, was familiar. 

Amy’s mom furrowed her brow. “Sweetie, can I get you a sandwich or something- what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, don’t worry, Grandma. We’ll stay with you. Not like Aunt Amy has ever spent more than an hour or two with us anyway, Mom always said she thought she was too good for us.”

Leave it to Sophie to find a way to insult her from the afterlife. 

It wasn’t that she had a problem with the kids. She had tried not to take her feelings about Sophie out on them. But she couldn’t deny that seeing her family bend and mold to meet their every need made a bitter taste rise in her throat. Their existence had upended the normal Brookheimer chaos, and created a serious, more permanent one. Amy could still remember her visit home after her freshman year at Penn. She was young and shiny, and so excited to tell her parents that she’d made Dean’s List and was the youngest ever president of the debate club. Always trying to earn her parents love, with every award and accolade and excited at the thought that this could be it, the time they would truly love and understand her. Before she could even open her mouth, Sophie had walked in and told them she was pregnant, and her parents had gotten up and hugged her. Told her they’d do whatever they could to support her. Her big sister had accomplished what she’d never been able to, and without a single report card. 

She knew she couldn’t do this, couldn’t give into this teenager who was testing her the same way she was accustomed to. But greater than her bitterness was her stubbornness. Amy could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. She’d known the relationship between her and her sister had been fractured to put it kindly, but to peddle her Fox News propaganda bullshit on to her kids? She worked for President Selina Meyer, what were three children?

“You know what, get your brother and sister. You’re staying with Aunt Amy.” She smiled as big as her mouth would allow and ignored her urge to vomit. 

\--

Car rides had always been the closest Amy had known to therapy. After years in D.C., she’d found that after a stress filled, rage inducing day, a silent car ride gave her the space to decompress and wash the day off- as best she could. Her current car ride was anything but. Cassie and Jordan arguing over the iPad, Cassie angrily texting and taking breaks to stare hatefully at Amy. For the first time, she was thrilled to be home. 

Before her keys had landed on the counter, Amy could feel she’d made a mistake. At least her parents house was a home, like some shit from out of a Better Home and Garden Magazine. As for her own, she looked around and observed, it looked more like a place three college students would crash in than where a woman in her 30’s would live. Hell, it took her two years just to get her mattress off the floor and onto a box spring. 

Luckily her frequent campaign visits had provided her with adequate equipment to be able to sleep anywhere. Her second bedroom, filled with boxes of briefing books and legal texts, squeezed in an air mattress for Jordan and Giselle. The pullout couch in her office would have to do for Cassie, the apparent heir to the Washington throne. Which is not to say she didn’t complain about it, because the girl did. But Amy had used her savvy negotiating skills to let Cassie use her bathroom in exchange for her silence over the sleeping arrangements.

By the time they kids had brought their bags in, made themselves up a bed and gotten comfortable, Gizelle started crying and Amy realized it was 8 pm and she hadn’t fed them. One call to a Chinese restauarant and an hour later, she finally had a moment to herself. She wondered how she’d enjoy it- watching CNN, drinking a glass of wine, maybe she’d even get bold and take a bath. CNN was her choice, and when she got into bed, she was asleep before her head hit the pillow. 

\--

As part of the current arrangement, the three children would continue to attend the same schools. Amy would drop them off in the mornings, and her Mother or Father would pick them up in the afternoons and take them back to her apartment. Before leaving her mother’s house the day prior, she’d warned her daughter that she should make time for school traffic, that it could be intense. Please, Amy knew D.C. like the back of her hand, she knew how to get around stressed out Dads and botoxed Moms.

If D.C. traffic was hell, school traffic was the seventh circle. Taking three kids to two different schools caused Amy to be thirty minutes late her first day back after...after Sophie. She wished she’d had the time to get to work early, to allow herself to breathe before the chaos arrived. As if they wouldn’t all be looking at her sideways anyway. Looking at her like they were scared she’d crumble right in front of them. She felt their eyes watching as she walked past security, and feel the collective whispers in her ears. They were all waiting to see her crack, to pounce on the opportunity to see her bleed. Fuck the vampires, she refused to let them bleed her dry. 

Walking into her office, she observed a coffee and a muffin sitting on her desk and Dan Egan behind it. “This from you?” She questioned, “A suspiciously nice gesture, but you do know that just because I was stupid enough let you see my cry doesn’t mean I’m stupid enough to let you take my job.”

“Glad to see you’re feeling better, Ames. I would’ve hated to be the one to 51/50 you, although I would’ve been an excellent replacement in your stead.” He’s trying, in the way Dan knows how. To treat her like a person, no kid gloves or sad eyes. Their fucked up past aside, in this moment she’s grateful for his inability to emote. 

“Dan, they would have given my job to Mike before it went to you. Also, you’re one to talk about mental health, the last time you were given any real responsibility you sank faster than a chastity belt on the Titanic.” Insulting Dan felt comfortable, like putting on a pair of jeans from high school and finding that they still fit. “My sister died, not my career.”

He bowed in faux-or maybe real- admiration. “Damn, the ice queen cometh. Any memory of you crying has been replaced in my brain by being turned on at the live action Frozen taking place in here.”

Cold? She wasn’t fucking cold. She just knew how to separate her life shit from her work shit, unlike everyone else in this goddamn building. Would a cold person take in her sister’s three fucking children? She refrained from telling him of their existence, knew he’d turn it into a joke and call her Mary fucking Poppins or something. Very quickly and quietly, she bristled at the comment, then shook it off. “What in the fried bucket of fuck am I walking into with the Israelis today?”

He gestured out of the office. “Since they’re leaking like a waterbed in a whorehouse, I now get the pleasure of writing a statement that is both fucking noncommital while being completely fucking committed to the goal of what we’re trying to do.” Dan had to be the simplest man she knew, and the most easily agitated.

“Being non committal while trying to seem committal is what you’ve been doing your entire adult life so this should be no challenge.” She lifted her coffee to her lips and hated that he knew every detail of coffee order.

“Better take that to go, we’ve got a briefing in the Oval in-” he glanced down at his watch, “Now.”

The nosy eyes of passing strangers, the whispers of unfucked interns, those were nothing to Amy. The sad looks of the faces that knew her, those were harder to avoid. Even Kent’s cold, battery-powered eyes looked at the floor when her glance met his. 

Selina cleared her throat. “Well, Ame, it is good to have you back. We’re all very sorry about your...loss, but your absence here has been evident, we’re all glad to have you back. I was worried we’d be sending Gary over to fucking scone them into agreeing.”

Amy mustered up a smile. “Good to be back ma’am.”

\--

By the time all three kids were in bed, Amy was practically crawling. Regularly feeding people was exhausting on its own, not to mention having to make sure their teeth were brushed and they’d showered. This should be how Navy SEALS train, not that drowning shit or whatever they do there. She’d just gotten herself onto the couch when she heard a knock at her door. Who the fuck could it possibly be at this hour? Something better have fucking exploded for her to be getting up right now. 

“Dan?” He stood outside her door with a pizza box and a case of beer. “Look,” he started, “I know you have a lot of family shit going on right now and I get it, I do. But Selina’s polling worse than measles over this back and forth and you have to help me figure this shit out before Ben starts throwing darts at a board to decide who to nuke.” He stuck out his arms, “And I brought this as bribery.”

For just a second, she considered telling him to fuck off and going to bed. She moved aside to let him through the door. “Just for the record, I’m only letting you in for the pizza.”

He rolled his eyes because he knew she was lying. And she was. “And don’t act like you have family shit,” she added. “Because everyone knows you’re what rose from the rubble of a nuclear holocaust.” She reached from between the beer and the pizza and grabbed the file folders. “Now tell me what’s going so we can prevent one in real time.”

After the fourth beer, Amy had mentally decided she wouldn’t get any work done that night. She’d looked at satellite images as long as any sane person could, but after her second, it all blurred together. In the last hour and a half, they’d been laughing about their

“You’re welcome, by the way,” she said as she decided to scoot closer to him. Fuck these beers for making her more confident than usual. 

“For what?” He asked back, raising his brow.

“If it weren’t for me calling you when Selina got re-elected, you’d be perpetually sitting in the CNN green room talking about vegetables until the end of time.” Why she’d called him back to the White House after the election, she couldn’t say. It wasn’t that she missed him, because she didn’t. Was it that it was weird going to work and not seeing him? Maybe, Did she need someone to make contemptuous eye contact with when Catherine entered a room. Perhaps. But it wasn’t that she missed him.

“Couldn’t live without me, huh?” He sidled up beside her, and his proximity to her felt strange but familiar. 

“No, I just like to see you suffer up close.” Not untrue. She made herself look at him, and turned to see his face next to hers, long, dark lashes framing his even darker eyes. The way he looked at her made her feel the same way she did the first day they met. He’d always known just how to look at her to get her to melt apart. 

“You’re a watcher? That’s not how I remember you,” He joked. Their eyes locked, and she felt his face drawing closer to hers. In those split seconds, she debated whether or not she wanted to kiss him. She had almost decided to give into him when she heard the pitter patter of tiny footsteps walking down the hall. “Aunt Amy?” Jordan stood there in his Spiderman pajamas with wet eyes.

Honestly she’d forgotten they were there, and judging by the look on Dan’s face she would have some serious shit to clean up with him as well. Her nephew must have been similarly confused, as he pointed to Dan. “Who’s that guy?”

Scrambling to find a good description for what Dan was to her must have taken longer than she thought, because he answered for her. “I’m Dan, I met you last week,” He said with a shocking amount of tact, “I work with your Aunt Amy, we’re just working on some super important stuff for the President.” Of course the networking addict would use his position to impress a nine year old. “What are you doing here?”

Jordan shrugged his shoulders in response. “My Mom died so now we live with Aunt Amy.” The simple honesty of his answer even widened Dan’s eyes. “Jesus, kid.” Dan replied, in a rare loss for words. 

Desperate to keep this conversation from going further, she interrupted. “Hey, why are you up?” She asked, as kindly as she could without sounding angry that she was currently being fucked by this conversation. 

“I’m scared, Cassie told me that there were monsters in my room and that if my feet were sticking out they’d be able to get me.” This fucking girl is vindicative, and that’s coming from a woman who works in politics. It was the exact deranged torture Sophie did to her as a child. 

Of all the problems these kids are likely to have, this is one she felt confident she could solve. Monsters? “Listen, I promise there are no monsters in your room. Cassie is lying to mess with you, and I will tell her to stop, ok?” Amy was not a praying woman, but she prayed this would be the end of the conversation. 

“Can you come check and tuck me in?” At that point, Amy would’ve put on a full Broadway production to get him to go to sleep. She gave a tight smile to Dan, assuring him he’d be right back, and followed him down the hall to his room. She looked around to his satisfaction, then tucked him in and told him goodnight. The walk back down the hallway had her stomach in knots. How would she explain this to him, a man who has no bridge unburned, that she felt compelled to take on three children and navigate a foreign crisis?

By the time she reached the living room, she was still undecided, but it didn’t matter. Amy looked around the living room, but Dan was gone. Just a cherry on the shit sundae of her day. She was out of her mind to think that he’d stick around after seeing that, she’s more shocked that there wasn’t a Looney Tunes esque Dan-shaped hole in the wall. “Fuck him.” Amy refused to lose sleep over Georgetown Ted Bundy with less credibility. She got into bed, took a melatonin and finally got her well deserved sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 is finally done! I'm thinking there will probably be 6 or 7 chapters, but I'm still trying to work out the kinks. Thank you guys for the positive comments, they mean the world!


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